Perspective of a Tribute
by TheDemidog
Summary: This story is told through the perspective of a Seam girl during the 45th Hunger Games. Her sister's name was drawn, even though she is too young to be in the games. What will this Seam girl do?


It's Reaping Day. Again. I struggle out of the small makeshift bed I share with my sister Milla, affectionately known to all as "Milkie". Thankfully, Milkie doesn't have to deal with a Reaping Day for herself for another two years, since she is only ten years old. In the small bedroom, there are three tiny beds, which aren't even real beds. The mattresses are all but gone, having been eaten away by the insects and bacteria that roam the small shacks in the District. In one of the small, rotted away beds lay my smallest siblings, the twins, Pruda and Levin, snuggled closely for warmth, in absence of our stolen moth-eaten blankets. They will not know the Reaping for another five years, five years that they can remain free of the worst of the Capitol's grip. And in the last bed, if you could call the board and rocks that, lays Alvah, who is 13, and Aymin, who is 19. I somewhat envy Aymin, who has escaped the age limit of the dreadful games, escaped the burden and trickery of tesserae. Poor Alvah, he has today 16 slips in the reaping bowl. 2 just because it's his second year. Last year, he took out seven for him, his siblings, and his mother. And this year that number of tesserae multiplied by 2, since it's cumulative.

Tessera is a difficult exchange. An extra slip with your name on it in the bowl, for a supply of grain and oil for one person, collected each month for a year. You can take out as many as the number in your household. but that means the chances of your name being drawn increase shockingly. The other problem is it often comes in small quantities, and it bakes down to an awful tasting mush, I doubt it has much nutrition in it. Because of the small quantities, Aymin and I have both taken tesserae since an early age. But he is no longer in the reaping, so that means an enormous lack of food. This year, I believe, if my math is correct, I have 42 slips in the bowl, since I am 16 years old. The frilly escort, who doubles as an announcer, always says may the odds be ever in your favor. But the truth is, if you live in a fringe district with so little food, the odds are never in your favor.

Tesserae is never enough, for you get tired of mushy stale bread quickly, because tesserae rot quickly, so you must cook it quickly, which means it gets stale rather quickly. You still need meat, water, soap, money for rent, and other basic things. The most I can do to get something other than bread is go with Aymin to the Hob, to try to trade tesserae bread with the vendors there. I used to be always frightened to be there, because what if the army of Peacekeepers, our law enforcers, come in and start shooting at all of us for being at an illegal black market? But I later learned that they are as hungry as us, and they are in fact frequent visitors there. I've become a bit more relaxed there over the years. Usually, a middle-aged woman named Sae will snatch some of our bread off our hands, and replace it with a small tin of hot soup. Sae knows how bad off we are, knows that at many points we have reached the brink of death from starvation. The soup has a variety of everything in it, Sae's not too picky about what's in it, but usually it's main ingredients are bread, flowers, and small chunks of reused meat to make a broth. No one judges her soup, there is no real food in District 12, and this soup is about as close as you can get to the real deal. Nothing has really been the same since the terrible incident that occurred five years ago

I remember it as clear as day. School had just been let out for the afternoon. The teachers were trying to make sure that the crowd of students didn't trample each other trying to get out. My friend Elix Langston and I didn't mind the crowd too much, we just waited and talked for a bit. We finally got on the road leading from the school and since we had decided earlier that we would surprise our fathers, who worked at the ancient coal mines, with a visit after they finished. Since the day was Saturday, they were let out early, at 4:30, so we decided to slowly put one foot in front of the other because it was a short distance to the mines, and it was only 3:30. We were about a mile or so away when there was a horrible noise, a blast, that almost split my eardrums.

Elix and I were thrown to the cold, muddy ground, debris and dust flying straight into our bodies. Other students and people milling around the road were screaming, and I could sense that many were probably injured. All of the buildings around us, including those who were located in the town square, were crumbling to the ground. I couldn't see for more than a few feet, and there was a searing pain coming from my knee. I could just see Elix, who had a large iron rod thrown right into her arm by the explosions, and she was biting back her tears. What had happened? I tried to speak, but couldn't because of all of the ash that had poured into my lungs. I heard a hoarse voice near me say that this kind of blast could have only occurred if the mines had exploded. If so, where was Daddy and Mr. Langston? Were they dead? I started to openly let my tears fall, and I could sense Elix doing the same. I was pretty sure that Elix and I were pinned underneath a picket fence of sorts, from a merchant's yard, perhaps? The screaming had subdued, and Peacekeepers, protected by their armor, were trying to dig any surviving people out of the rubble. I could just see a Peacekeeper with a kind, young face, I later learned his name was Ryah, removing the fence boards from on top of Elix and I. Soon, we were both being lifted up by this Peacekeeper, and being set on the ground. The second I was set on the ground, I crumpled to the ground from the pain of supporting my leg and blacked out.

I was brought to a healer who lived down in the heart of the Seam. Unfortunately, there were many injured being carted into her home, and Elix, who was still conscious, later said that it took almost three hours for her to be able to work on us. I was given some medicinal herbs, and once I regained consciousness, she said that my left leg was severely damaged, from flying debris, being pinned underneath the rubble, and the weight of supporting my leg. She said I might never be able to walk without a slight limp again. Elix had the pole removed from her arm, luckily, she hadn't bled out too much from the wound. I begged the woman to tell me of what had happened, and she finally relented. It had been a fairly normal day in the mines, and the miners were dragging a sack of gunpowder to create a new mine entrance. But they did not realize that gunpowder was pouring out of the bag, via a small hole. They had walked in most of the active mines since the lifts had been broken that day. It was a fairly large bag, so they didn't realize that some was gone. They lowered the bag in an empty shaft, lit the fuse, which had a sixty-second delay, and ran to a separate area.

After sixty seconds, the bag exploded, lighting the long line of gunpowder that had dripped out of the bag. They probably were vaporized instantly. The explosion killed anyone who was in any of the mines and traveled out the entrance, exploding and burning train cars and warehouses full of coal dust. The explosion and resulting fire must have wiped out nearly half of the nearby Seam houses, including most of the town square. Since coal dust was tracked in the boots and clothes of everyone in the district, the fire spread amongst the entire district for nearly three days, and minor explosions could constantly be heard. The few survivors now lacked a house, food, or other basic staples of life. Our house, with all of our sparse food and belongings, gone. All of the District, except a few houses, gone.

All of our miners were dead, save for three who had ran when they saw the gunpowder. People started to build new shacks out of the leftover debris. The shacks were more of a shelter than anything, and they were a severe fire hazard. The square was eventually repaired, most of the Merchants had survived with no ill effects. The Reaping, only a few short days after the explosion, came and passed. But the long term effects were still there, a year after the explosion. There was usually as many as 15 living in small trash shacks, our coal industry was wiped out, and the mines needed to be rebuilt. Boys and girls as young as 13 were forced to carve an entire network of mines, for little or no payment. All of the District's food, stored in warehouses and shops, was gone. All of us were constantly on the brink of starvation, even now. By now, many of us citizens had recovered from the short-term effects, but jobs were still few and far between. Some, during the worst of times, had resorted to cannibalism, or even to prostitution. It was hard to remain pure in this awful environment.


End file.
